She pulled down her veil.

“Thank you, I have finished,” she said in a low tone.

He called for the bill.

“Pray, don’t let my little remark distress you,” he said.  “I had almost forgotten the circumstance until something you said brought it into my mind.  It is you yourself, you must remember, who set the example of candor.”

“I deserve everything you can say,” she murmured, “everything you can do.  There is nothing left, I suppose, but suffering.  Will you take me out to my carriage?  You can come back and have your coffee with the Marchioness!  She keeps looking across at you, and it will please her to think that you got rid of me.”

He glanced at his watch.

“I am afraid,” he said, rising, “that I must deny myself the pleasure of seeking the Marchioness again today.  I have a train to catch in half an hour.  You are ready?”

“Quite!”

They made their way through the maze of tables towards the door, Lady Ruth exchanging greetings right and left with her friends, although the tall, grave-looking man who followed her was by far the greater object of interest.

“Just like Ruth to keep him in her pocket,” remarked her dearest friend, looking after them; “they say that he has millions.”

She sighed a little enviously.

“The Barrington menage needs a little backing up,” her companion remarked.  “I should say that he had come just in time.  The Marchioness has her eye upon him too.  There may be some fun presently.”

Lady Ruth’s dearest friend smiled.

“I will back Ruth,” she said drily.  “Emily is beautiful, but she is too obvious, and too eager!  Ruth’s little ways are more subtle.  Besides, look at the start she has.  She isn’t the sort of woman men tire of.”

Lady Ruth held out her hand through the window of her electric coupe.

“Thank you for my luncheon,” she said.  “When shall we see you again?”

“In a few days,” he answered, standing bareheaded upon the pavement.  “I shall call directly I return.”

Lady Ruth nodded and leaned back.  Wingrave smiled faintly as he turned away.  He had seen the little shudder which she had done her best to hide!

Lady Ruth found her husband at home, writing letters in his study.  She sank wearily into a chair by his side.

“Been lunching out?” he inquired.

She nodded.

“At Prince’s, with Wingrave.”

He made no remark, but he seemed far from displeased.

“If I’d only had the pluck,” he remarked a little disconsolately, “I might have made thousands by following his advice this week.  It was you who put me off, too!”

“It turned out all right?” she asked.

“Exactly as he said.  I made five hundred!  I might just as well have made five thousand.”

“Can you let me have a couple of hundred?” she asked.  “The people are all bothering so.”